That Jesus Only Knew Man
by Lance Ruhiru
Summary: Like TJOKM, only with less wangst and more sex. Stan and Kyle still aren't gay. BebeKennyMole
1. Chapter 1

All is not right in Kenny-ville.

Kenny has a system for waking up. Every morning he stretches his arms out to either side of his bed. This is less for working the sleep stiffness out of his limbs and more for smacking Mole and Bebe in the foreheads. Three people sleeping on a twin sized bed makes it inevitable that someone is going to get squashed in the night, and as Kenny always claims the middle as his own, that someone is always Kenny. Not that Kenny is complaining. He's willing to take a little muscle atrophy in exchange for getting spooned by Bebe's curvaceous legs on one side and Mole's muscular thighs on the other.

No, the purpose of the face-smack is to rouse Bebe and Mole from their slumber in such a way that they get those lethargic/aggravated looks on their faces an gnaw on him like drowsy kittens. Kenny finds it both adorable and hott (yes, with _two_ "t"s, as he is sleeping with two people and likes to brag about it constantly). After a while Mole wakes up enough to go make them breakfast, and Bebe wanders around topless until she can find a shirt to put on, which more often than not is one of Mole's white tank tops.

Kenny considers it the _only_ way to start the day.

So when he stretches out and finds himself alone in bed, Kenny knows something is horribly, horribly wrong. He climbs out of bed and roams the house until he finds Bebe in the kitchen, licking stamps and sticking them to envelopes. Kenny reaches under the hem of his favorite shirt—Nazi Atheist Misanthrope Bisexuals Love Anilingus—and scratches his stomach while "herumphing," which is the noise Kenny makes when he wants to be chewed on by his boyfriend and girlfriend and isn't getting his way. Kenny has a very specific vocabulary, completely devoid of syllables.

"Good morning, Kenny," Bebe says cheerfully. She is fully dressed, which doesn't do anything to lift Kenny's mood—or any part of Kenny.

"What're you doing?"

"Addressing envelopes for Mole's surprise birthday party. What does it _look_ like I'm doing?"

"But you're licking stamps."

"Uh, _duh_."

"Bebe, the stamps _come_ with adhesive backs."

"_So?_"

Kenny sits down across from her and props his face up in his hands. "Did you know that every time you lick a stamp you consume half a calorie?"

Bebe gapes at him. "Shut. Up."

"It's true. So you just ate the equivalent of four Oreos."

"Not Double Stuf," Bebe says weakly, placing the back of her hand against she forehead and gazing up at the ceiling fan tragically. "Please, don't tell me Double Stuf."

"I think," Kenny says, taking her other hand and cradling it gently, "it could be the Quadruple Stuf of Wendy/Cartman infamy."

"No!" she wails melodramatically. They both sit there for a while, and then Bebe pouts. "Where _is_ Mole? Our theatrics aren't nearly as much fun when we aren't forcing him to watch them."

"_You_ don't know where he is?" Kenny asks.

"Well, no. He was gone when I woke up. That's why I thought it would be a perfect time to address the birthday invitations."

Kenny and Bebe have been plotting Mole's surprise birthday party for two weeks now. It is going to be especially surprising because Mole's birthday isn't for another seven months. Bebe and Kenny have planned on kidnapping Mole, blindfolding him, and then shoving him into the girls' restroom at the local sandwich shop. Then they will unveil the cake—which will say "Happy 87th Birthday, Glynis," naturally—and smash great quantities of it into Mole's hair, then round off the party by stuffing as much glittery palm tree-shaped confetti down his pants as they can.

It will truly be the only way to celebrate a birthday.

"Mole is _missing?_" Kenny shoots up in his chair. "What if he got out!? Did you remember to lock the gate?"

"Don't you try and blame this on me!" Bebe shouts, jumping up as well.

"Okay, okay, let's just search the house. He could be up in the attic."

"Or down in the basement."

"Right! Both classic places for Quasimodo-esque humans to lurk."

"Not that Mole is Quasimodo-esque," Bebe protests

"He shies away from humanity."

"But if he were ever in the bell tower of a cathedral it would be to write blasphemous graffiti on the walls, not ring the bells. Also, he has the notable lack of a hump."

"Thanks a lot, now I've got "My Humps" stuck in my head," Kenny whines.

"Okay, you start searching downstairs and I'll start upstairs, and we'll shout when we see him."

Bebe has scarcely begun to climb the stairs when he hears Kenny shriek; she runs back to find him sprawled on his ass in front of a closet, partially buried under a cascade of plaster garden gnomes.

"Why do you have a closet full of gnomes?" he asks, gaping at her.

"Well people started giving them to me as, you know, gag gifts... after a while I had a collection of them."

"So what're you going to do with a closet full of them?"

Bebe shrugs. "Lock Tweek in there if he tries to cheat me at blackjack again?"

"Hey, c'mon, that's not fair. You know Token put him up to it, and Mole hustled your watch back, didn't he?"

The rest of the search of the house went quickly. Finding no Mole, even after searching the cupboard above the refrigerator and the washing machine, Bebe and Kenny curled up together on the living room couch and held each other while they mourned.

"He's out there somewhere, right now, cold, lonely... not being molested..." Kenny said with an overly dramatic sob.

"Who's going to cook? To _clean?_ Who are we going to buy a french maid outfit for every gift-giving holiday?! It's not nearly as funny if the person who gets it isn't French and doesn't curse at us and throw it at your head after they open the present!"

"We should have made him wear dog tags."

"He does wear dog tags!"

"Well we should have gotten him a leash!"

"I've got it!" Bebe says, sitting up. "We'll make lost flyers!"

They then proceed to create a template:

**MISSING: CHRISTOPHE**

Also answers to: Mole, Chris, Chrissy, Guacamole, French Chrissing, Holy Moley, Rolie Polie Molie, Topher, Cockwhore

Below which Kenny employs his great artistic skills to draw a sketch of what is either Mole, Mole's shovel, or Patrick Swayze.

Bebe and Kenny are just about to run over to the town photo copier when the front door opens and, lo and behold, Mole walks in. He is promptly tackled by Bebe and Kenny both.

"MOLE! We were so worried! And the dishes were piling up!" Bebe cries, nuzzling his back. Kenny wraps his arms around Mole's head proceeds to rub his chin in his hairline affectionately.

"How long has it been? Days? Months?"

"You _freaks_," Mole grumbles, trying to shake them off and failing spectacularly. "I left for twenty minutes to go buy _milk._"


	2. Chapter deux

"Ugh, organic food," Bebe says, making a face as she examines the array of vegetables spread out before her.

"What's wrong with organic food?" Mole asks, laden down with groceries.

"If I _have_ to eat non-meat products, i.e. fruits and vegetables, I like to know that at least insects were killed to provide me with them."

"Regular carnivore, eh?" Mole says dryly.

"I'd beat my chest and roar, but we're in public and it would attract attention."

"Never stopped you before," Mole mumbles.

"So!" Bebe says, clapping her hands together, "what've we got?"

"Everything but what you _insisted_ you needed." Bebe had the sense of mind to realize that, should Mole bring his milk into the kitchen, he would have seen the surprise birthday invitations, and then all her and Kenny's planning would have been for not. She'd quickly grabbed hold of Mole and insisted that they return to the grocery store because they were out of tangerines.

"You hate tangerines," Mole protested.

"Oh, I do not," Bebe denied.

"You hate them so much you spent two weeks coming up with a song and dance routine about how much you hate them."

"Oh, that? Pfft," Bebe said with a casual wave of the hand. "That was nothing. Theater. Every thing's, you know, symbolic in theater."

"Tangerines aren't symbolic."

"They _could_ be."

"Of what?"

"Oh, you know... wars and... stuff. And the futility of... things. So c'mon, all this talk of tangerines is making me especially hungry for them."

"I thought we were talking about tangerines symbolically."

"Well now we're talking about them literally and I'm famished." Bebe shoved Mole out the front door. "We're going, Kenny! Why don't you put away _the milk_ while we're out? And when Mole and I come back, _the milk_ will be completely out of sight, right, Kenny?"

"What?" Mole said.

"Yeah, what?" Kenny asked.

"Just get rid of the milk!" she hissed, slamming the door.

"But I still have it," Mole pointed out.

"Oh, that's fine!" Bebe said cheerfully, slipping her arm through his. "Off to the store!"

Once they got there, of course, Bebe pulled everything off the shelves that _wasn't_ a fruit or vegetable and dumped it in the baskets Mole was carrying. Eventually the only part of the store she hadn't ransacked was the part with healthy food, and that is where they are now.

Mole's cellphone vibrates, and while Bebe makes immature faces at the tomatoes, he fumbles with the prepackaged foodstuffs to answer it. He flips it open, frowns at the screen, then flips it closed again.

"Who was it?" Bebe asks, turning away from the produce. It's a bit hard to understand her because her index fingers have hooked her mouth at the corners and drawn it down into a triangle.

"Kenny. Again." In the thirty minutes since he and Bebe left the house, Kenny has taken and sent twenty-seven pictures of himself doing a striptease with a spatula as a prop and sent them to Mole's phone. Why neither Kenny nor Bebe thought to call Mole's cell phone during the twenty minutes he was out buying milk will forever remain a mystery.

Bebe giggles and drops her hands. "Oh, I know what I came for now."

"Tangerines."

"_Echk_, Mole, don't you know me at all? I hate tangerines." Moles sighs. "No," Bebe goes on, "we're getting you off smoking."

"Excuse me?"

"Come on!" She grabs Mole by the hand and soon has him carrying nicotine patches, gum, lozenges, sprays, inhalers, hypnosis tapes, and Chinese herbs. Mole frowns at her in the checkout line.

"This isn't going to work, you know."

"Oh, that's what you think."

o o o

Mole and Bebe meet up with Kenny in front of Junk In Your Trunk, the plus-size jean store of South Park. Kenny is there every Sunday morning from eleven until whenever he feels like leaving, which is usually 11:03, giving sermons in which he supposedly reveals the great truths of the afterlife. Today's lesson: that Jesus said a bunch of great stuff about brotherhood and not stoning people, but that Jesus only knew man and was as lost when it came to the workings of God as anyone else.

The only one listening to Kenny at the moment is Clyde, so Kenny is more than happy to break off mid-sentence when Mole and Bebe show up to suck face. Clyde slinks off like a dog with its tail between its legs.

"You know he likes you," Bebe admonishes. "It's not nice to rub your exceptionally hot girlfriend and adequately hot boyfriend in his face."

"I'm not _adequate_," Mole grumbles.

"Oh, don't sell yourself short, Mole, of course you're adequate," Kenny says, clearly amused while he rips into the grocery bags. "Oreo, Bebe?"

"Don't mind if I do," Bebe says, helping herself to a handful. She and Kenny try to keep a straight face, fail, and Bebe plops down in Kenny's lap while they snigger.

"You're both mental," Mole says. This is a mantra of his. The majority of Bebe and Kenny's exaggerated performances are put on for his amusement, but once they get into a shtick he finds it nearly impossible to get them to stop play-acting and talk seriously again.

It is at this moment that Stan and Kyle stroll by, walking arm-in-arm. Kenny calls out to them and waves. "You guys out for a gay little walk around the park?"

"I'll have you know we're promenading," Kyle informs him. "You _have_ to link arms when you promenade."

"Of course," Kenny snickers into Bebe's hair.

"There's way gayer stuff we could be doing!" Stan objects.

"Nice comeback, Stan."

"Like you're one to talk anyway," Kyle says, eyeing Mole.

"Hey, we're not gay, we're polyfidelitous!" Kenny protests.

Kyle and Stan promenade away. "Your friends are beetches," says Mole, whose bad French accent only surfaces when he says certain key words.

Kenny shrugs. "Well, yeah, but so is everyone else I know."


	3. Chapter iii

"Because it's not fair," Kenny whines.

"You're being ridiculous," Bebe says. "Mole has a very serious smoking addiction. You have a very serious dying addiction. We're just trying to remedy that."

To set the scene: since Bebe's recent crusade to get Mole off wacky tobacky, Mole has been inspired to appoint himself Kenny's personal body guard and fight the good fight against mortality. It's not that Kenny minds getting tackled to the ground whenever a truck comes flying by, or shots ring out, or a leaf breaks off of a tree limb and gently falls in his general direction—it's actually increased the number of impromptu Mole!floor!sex! sessions, which Kenny _always_ counts as a plus no matter how rug-burned he ends up—but Kenny wants the chance to meddle himself. Bebe is stalking Mole and slapping nicotine patches onto whatever bare patch of skin she can get at (namely, all of it), and Mole is stalking Kenny and shaking down whoever/whatever comes near him. Kenny feels like he should be stalking Bebe for some reason, just to complete the cycle.

But Bebe is being annoyingly normal.

"I've got it," Kenny says suddenly. He leaps off of her bed and points a finger at her. "_You_ need to mend your relationship with your mom!"

"No I don't," Bebe huffs.

"Come on. So she's a lesbian. Let bygones be bygones! Forgive and forget! E mono es su mono!"

"Now you're just making up words."

"Really, it would be nice and cathartic."

"Oh, you're right. Maybe the lack of a strong female influence in my life is why I'm shacking up with two guys. R-E-S-P-E-C-T! Find out what it means to me!"

"Woooah now. Don't get crazy," Kenny says, holding his palms up. Bebe rolls her eyes.

"Sarcasm."

"Hey, I can tell when you're joking. I'm not Mole."

"Ken_neeey_," she says, pulling her knees up under her chin and fluttering her eyelashes at him. "If Mom came back into my life Daddy'd probably stop feeling guilty and letting me have everything I want. Which most likely means he'd find a problem with having my two boyfriends live in our house. Which almost definitely means you and Mole'd have to go back to your crazy-ass families."

Kenny didn't say anything, as he was distracted by the clear view of Bebe's panties. Kenny is convinced that whoever came up with all that forbidden fruit/pop the cherry crap had Bebe's panties in mind. Not to be deterred from his greater mission of convincing Bebe to patch things up with her mother, he quickly fashioned a blindfold so as not to be distracted.

"... Kenny, you just tied a pair of my underwear around your head."

"Yes. Yes I did."

"So you're using panties to block your view of panties."

"Yes. What's your point?"

"... No point, I guess."

"Kenny's digging through underwear again?" Kenny hears Mole say as he enters the room. "He should be hosed down."

"I'll have you know," Kenny says, pointing a finger in the direction he _thinks_ Mole is, because he still has the panties-blindfold on, "that I go through underwear drawers for purely sexless reasons. They don't interest me unless I get to take them off someone. Anyway, who the hell wears pink elephant boxers?! What are you, a gay republican?"

"I don't wear them anymore," Mole says. "Token sicced Tweek's gnomes on me after I stole Bebe's watch back-"

"Klepto," Bebe says with great fondness.

"-so now I'm going commando. See?" Kenny rips off the blindfold as Mole hooks his finger in a belt loop and shows off some hip bone, only to have Bebe slap on another nicotine patch. Kenny gives Mole a look.

"Why aren't you resisting her on this at all? When Bebe tried to improve MY life I fought her tooth and nail!"

"Oh, you did not," Bebe snorts. "You were surly and you stomped around, but you never tried to _stop_ me."

"I was weak. Malnourished. I had not the calories to wage such a battle."

"Bebe pinches me when I don't go along with her," Mole says by way of explanation.

"_So?_"

"So her nails hurt."

"Please! Bears have nails four inches long! Isn't that what mercenaries do, go out into the woods and wrestle bears?"

"Bears don't file them." Mole sits down next to Bebe on the bed and Kenny, who doesn't want to be the only one standing, sits down on Mole.

"You've never _really _wrestled a bear, have you?" Bebe asks.

"Well, once a five-year-old hired me to get a teddy bear back from this infertile bear that had gone insane and was collecting stuffed animals to mother... but no. In any case, that's not what I came over to talk about. Bebe. This smoking thing."

"I _know_ it's hard to quit, Mole, but the next time you die Kenny probably isn't going to be able to barter to get you back."

"I would _try_," Kenny protests. "I might have to—ugh—help Damien tile his bathroom, but for you guys I'd even pick out matching curtains."

"That's touching, Kenny," Bebe says. "I know how much you hate interior decorating."

"I think I've figured out why I started in the first place," Mole interrupts before Kenny and Bebe can really get into it. "Until I was seven, I sucked my thumb."

Kenny and Bebe exchange looks, and then they fall across Mole's lap, laughing hysterically. Mole drums his fingers impatiently and waits for them to recover.

"Sorry—ahahaha—I know we shouldn't laugh when you-" Kenny snerks "-_bare your soul_."

"Yes!" Bebe is laughing so hard that she isn't actually making any noise, just wheezing silently. "Because this needs to be a _safe and loving environment_ for—ahahahaha—all three of us!"

"Are you two done?" Mole asks impatiently. They bit their lips and nod, not trusting themselves to speak. "I only stopped sucking my thumb when I started smoking. So. I think the nicotine patches aren't working because it's an oral fixation."

"Oooo, I like the turn this conversation is taking," Kenny says.

"So we should try the nicotine gum," Mole says, addressing Bebe and ignoring Kenny. Which is difficult, as Kenny is still sitting in his lap.


End file.
